


Wings (Or Loki likes being a Hawk more than he likes Being Himself)

by cephalopodcat



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Heimdall is a smug bastard, Kink Fill, M/M, Magic porn, Older works, Prompt Fill, Shapeshifting, Wings, wings are an erogenous zone?, wings are sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 12:17:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1744328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cephalopodcat/pseuds/cephalopodcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki, as he learns magic, is surprisingly un-adept at it. It takes a few tries before he really gets something down. And shapeshifting is REALLY complex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wings (Or Loki likes being a Hawk more than he likes Being Himself)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a warning.  
> From [THIS](http://norsekink.livejournal.com/1123.html?thread=1685603#t1685603) prompt on the Norsekink comm. 
> 
> A few Author's comments first- I honestly have NO CLUE where the bit with Heimdall came from, but it fit.  
> As for the ending, well, I don't know where that came from either. I intended to write porn, and then plot just sort of slipped it's way in there. I don't know.
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr [here!](http://cephalopod-werecat.tumblr.com)

It all started with that stupid girl bragging about her cloak.

Loki had never liked Freyja particularly much anyway, but it was no more or less than he generally liked most of the court on an average day.

But today...

Loki was hunkered over in a window, leaning against the sill and watching the clouds drift by outside. To any who were not wise enough to have learned better, he was for all intents and purposes daydreaming. Of course his mind was working a million miles a minute, as he turned over a complex spell he'd found in an old grimoire days ago. He'd still not been able to figure out the meaning of one particularly odd set of runes in the upper quadrant, but he was determined to puzzle it out soon.

Oh, yes, Freyja was talking. He was listening to her too, and had you asked him, he would have been able to repeat anything she'd said with almost perfect accuracy. (A skill developed years ago from far too much time listening to Thor prattle on about his latest battles...) He didn't care what she spoke of, but his Lady Mother had chided him not long ago for being impolite or something and spending too much time locked away studying, so he was determined to humor her, at least for today.

Thor was happily regaling a pack of young women with his latest tale- about how he'd single-handedly fought off a wild boar who'd made it's way into the gardens. Of course he never mentioned how it had been Loki's idea for the pair of them to draw the beast out with an illusionary pack of dogs at it's heels...oh well. Loki hardly cared at this point. His brother overshadowing him was something he'd come to accept as another simple fact of life, despite how it galled him. It was simply one of the truths of the universe- The Sky was blue, Heimdall watched the Bifrost, and Thor drew attention to him like a flame drew moths.

Another high-pitched laugh sent a chill down his spine, and it had nothing to do with the weather. It was merely Freyja's voice. For being a goddess, she still managed to irritate the dark-haired young man to no end. Freyja was boasting about her new cloak, ensorcelled to allow it's wearer to take the shape of a falcon, and enable them flight. FAN. TAS. TIC. Normally Loki would have jumped at hearing about the spells woven into the cloak, but by the AllFather, she was the most boring creature he'd ever had the misfortune of coming across. Even her voice grated on his nerves, and the young trickster was aching to get away from the banalities of an Asgardian court session.

As soon as he was able (and a swift pleading glance at Lady Frigga, who had merely inclined her head and let him free) he was practically running out of the ballroom, dying to get back to his books- in the process of Freyja managing to make even his favorite subject of sorcery unbearably boring, he still yet managed to hit on a possible use for those unidentifiable runes, and he was curious to try them out-

And he stopped dead, eyes widening.

He'd long ago mastered the art of shapeshifting. It was hardly uncommon for him to play at being anyone else just to amuse himself, but-

That cloak.

He was a shapeshifter. Why would a shapeshifter ever need something as simple as a magic cloak? Surely it couldn't be so hard to mimic those spells by his own power? Loki smiled, and turned on his heel to stalk outside.

The rune-spell could wait.  
___

Heimdall was, by now, used to the younger Odinson's strange habits. As much as anyone could be used to Loki, that is. Heimdall was not friends with him, no. Heimdall was hardly friends with anyone. But Loki spent much time staring off the edges of Asgard when he wanted to think, and Heimdall had grown used to his presence there on and off. He and his brother had used to make sport of trying to get a rise out of the ancient watchman, but had long ago ceased that game. And yet, Loki still on occasion came to question him on strange matters, or simply to do as he was now, and just think.

Which is why the Gatekeeper said nothing as the dark-haired man stood staring over the edge of the Bifrost just outside the palace gates.

Though after an hour and a half of near statuesque stillness from the trickster, he had to admit he was curious to Loki's actual purpose there. And if it wasn't simply an illusion. Again.

"Son of Odin."

Loki's head snapped up and he glanced at Heimdall as if seeing him for the first time. Heimdall had not thought the young trickster was so deep in thought.

"How may I help you this fine day, good Heimdall?" Loki said finally, straightening his sleeves in a casual manner, a movement that always somehow reminded Heimdall of a feline.

"I was simply wondering if you were going to jump or not."

Loki quirked his mouth into something like a smile for all of half a second, then shook his head. "I'll let you know. Do I detect a hint of sarcasm there, dear Heimdall? I had not thought you capable."

"You detect what you wish, Loki." Heimdall said flatly. "What has your attention so this day?"

Loki regarded the guardian for a moment, then went back to his absent staring off the side of Bifrost for some time. Heimdall waited.

Eventually, Loki spoke. "I was just considering something. Could one who could fly traverse Yggdrasil freely? Or do the world tree's branches restrict that freedom too?"

Heimdall was silent. He would not say he knew there were many paths between the realms, beyond the Bifrost's reach. Some, yes, could be taken by those with wings. But he would not speak of this to the far-too-clever son of Odin. The magically-gifted prince had already mastered the spells to hide himself from Heimdall's eyes, though as of yet, Heimdall did not think Loki had realized as much. It would only be a matter of time, of course, but until then...

After a moment, Loki seemed to accept he was not going to say anything more, and left the Bifrost, heading back to the Palace.

Hours later, when a black-winged hawk soared over Bifrost, Heimdall didn't react. he never would. But he didn't have to be the all-seeing guardian to know the bird hesitated as it flew above the end of Bifrost, circling warily before screeching angrily and winging it's way back over the palace gardens.  
___

Loki was not one for personal boasting or the like, but if birds could have done victory dances there would have been one very bizarre-looking hawk doing a jig under a large pear tree in the gardens. Not that anyone would have seen-

The gardens were empty, for the most part, and Loki knew this particular out-of-the-way grove was shielded by more than just natural camouflage. (Loki had needed somewhere to practice spells. And he'd grown tired of explaining how exactly he'd burned the curtains in his chambers THIS time...That, and it was always nice to have a place where he could-ah- 'converse'- with his brother away from prying eyes.)

But still. He'd done it, perfectly. Other than somehow being unable to alter the basic coloration of the bird - apparently he was still as dark-haired (or feathered in this case) and green-eyed as ever- he was to all eyes a perfectly normal hawk.

And Freyja was boasting about her stupid cloak.

Loki glanced around, trying to reconcile his new field of vision with his not-quite-used-to-being-a-bird mind. Seeing from two angles was disconcerting, and he found that he had to keep turning one side of his head to focus on the spellbook lying on the discarded cloak under the tree.

Still, even the difficulties of getting used to a new shape were little in comparison to the smug sense of achievement within. Admittedly, this was far beyond anything he'd done- even his experiment in shapeshifting into a female. At least he'd still been mainly the same shape.

But this whole nonsense with the wings was more difficult than he had expected.

The black hawk hopped around flailing for a moment, stirring up leaf debris and generally failing miserably at achieving anything resembling flight, before Loki halted and stopped to re-think his situation.

A few very difficultly-manipulated pages of spellbook later, Loki had an answer. He simply forgot what it was to be bound to the earth by things such as legs and arms, and stretched his wings.

Once you forget a basic principle of something, it becomes quite easy to reshape them to your will. It was, really, the basic of magic, after all. To be able to fly, you must forget what it is to fall. To call forth fire, you must forget what it is to know the cold. And to take another shape, you must first forget your own.

He took to the air with ease, marveling at the easy way he mastered the winds and was soon high above Asgard, circling the highest reaches of the Palace. He banked sharply, feeling the pull and strain on his shoulders as his wings fought to obey his will, and the fan of his tailfeathers as he turned, righting his path and keeping him aloft. The hawk's shape was marvelous, really, swift and sleek and full of a raw power Loki would not have expected he'd enjoy so much. It was a blissful sort of freedom he'd never truly dwelt upon until he'd realized he'd been lacking it. It was...exhilarating.

Loki was not and never had been one for exuberant displays of emotion.

But there were at least three witnesses who could tell of a strange black raptor screaming victoriously around the towers of the Palace that afternoon.

But before he allowed himself too much he had a theory to test over Bifrost.

Loki had been warned many times about the care and concentration it took to master shapeshifting, of course. He couldn't even begin to count the number of warnings and horror stories he'd been told of over-vain sorcerers becoming stuck mid-transition, or those who had lost their true selves to the magics. The warnings of how one should never attempt a full transformation unless they were certain they could reverse it. Unless they were certain they could return to themselves. Certain they would return to themselves.

But Loki had heard these all from overly cautious old men who feared magic more than they craved to master it. Loki thought very little of them, and only feigned an interest in their timid ways of spellcasting. He'd gone far beyond their teachings years ago, and while they still thought him incapable of altering the color of a piece of cloth through illusion, he had long ago mastered the art of calling into being a perfect doppelganger of himself. Shapeshifting was very similar, in practice, to illusion-magic, with a few twists on the spells and some alterations of the basic principles, but both came easily to Loki.

So he had, of course, not given any thought to those old fool's lectures when he'd attempted his latest trick.

Which left him in something of a predicament when he returned to his hiding place and found he could not seem to dismiss the hawk's shape entirely. That was...unexpected.

Perhaps it was that he could not bring himself to stop dwelling upon the feeling of flight, of the freedom his wings had given him. Perhaps he was simply too tired- he had spent the better part of a day testing the limits of the hawk's shape, and he could feel his own weariness beginning to set in. Perhaps he had just been too careless with his spell. (Even he had to admit that was unlikely. He was arrogant and cocksure, but he was never careless, especially when it came to magic.)

Or, perhaps, and this he barely allowed himself to even think of, he should have listened to the old masters.

He tried to remember being LOKI, being himself, every detail he could manage. His face, his body, his mannerisms, he focused on everything he knew of himself and what made him up... and came up with very little. He could remember what he looked like, but when it came to who he was, he could almost pull it all together before it slipped from his fingers like smoke.

He threw his cloak over his shoulders, dismissing the spells of hiding that masked the grove, and drew them about himself. He'd be more than able to make it back to his chambers without notice, and he could fix the problem there.

Not ten minutes later, the trickster god was standing in front of the large mirror in his room, stripped to the waist and looking rather irritated.

He looked as normal as ever, but for one thing. From his back extended a pair of feathered hawk's wings, angular and sharp and folded against his back as if they'd always been there.

It would have been less of a problem to deal with if they hadn't also been to scale. Oh, yes, these weren't fanciful little hawk-sized wings on his body. No, somehow the spell had carried through to make them long, Loki-appropriate-sized wings. He turned, angry, to gather his shirt and the tip of one pinion brushed the back of his leg.

He froze, unnerved by the strange sensation. He hadn't noticed when he was a bird, of course, how sensitive his wings were. It had simply been natural to him then. But with the sudden addition of wings to his normal shape, it was a whole lot of weird. And he did not like it. (Or he DID like it, and he didn't like liking it.)

Loki had to spend a moment concentrating to try to will his shape back to it's fully normal self, but to no avail. Despite throwing every ounce of his power into the effort, the wings stayed put. And a tiny little sliver of fear slid into his heart that he'd really fucked it up this time. Angrily, Loki sat down on his bed and began to swear softly, mostly at himself but occasionally throwing in an insult or two about Thor just for good measure. (It made him feel better.) Completely without his conscious effort, the wings on his back raised ever so slightly, the feathers fanning out and fluffing up threateningly.

Unfortunately, in turning his anger to a rant about his brother's idiocy, Loki forgot that the same brother also had the most irritating ability to show up exactly when he was least wanted.

There was a loud banging on Loki's door.

(There wouldn't even have been that, but Loki had locked the door and sealed his chambers to be alone to try to fix his problem. Thor had always been the type to just barge in no matter what, and Loki had long ago learned only physical deterrence could stop him.)

"Loki? Brother, what are you up to? You've been scarce all day, and now you vanish up here?"

Why did Thor always assume he was up to something, Loki thought angrily. (His brain refused to admit the simple fact that it was because he always WAS up to something.) Maybe if he didn't say anything Thor would leave.

"I know you're in there, brother, else you wouldn't have locked the door. Besides, Fandral says he saw you stalking up here looking in a foul temper earlier."

Damn. Fandral was going to wake up with a dead horse in his bed, Loki vowed. A dead horse in a dress.

"Loki? Looookiiiii?"

Loki was so very tempted to set Thor on fire again just to get him to stop calling his name like that.

"Go away, Thor. I do not feel well, that's all. Fandral is simply a moron, and I am NOT up to anything." Now. An hour ago he was up to quite a bit, but Thor needn't know that. A smirk briefly crossed his face as he remembered flying directly over the sparring ring where he'd watched his brother fight Sif earlier. Ah...the hawk's vision had been most convenient for noting every line of Thor's body as he'd...

No, no, no. Not dwelling on THAT now. Not when he was actively trying to get Thor to go away and FORGET about the whole flying thing. That was part of his PROBLEM. (Damn wings. Watching Thor fight was one of Loki's more...private pastimes, but under any other circumstances he would have been happy to dwell on the thought...)

"I could always ask Mother to come tend to you if you feel ill."

Loki groaned softly. His wings mantled faintly, unfolding ever so slightly in response to his anger. That only made him groan louder.

"No, don't bother her. Just give me a moment."

Loki rifled through his drawers until he found a large, loose tunic, one of Thor's that the thunder god had left behind not long ago, and he tossed it over his head. If he focused, it wasn't hard to keep his wings tightly folded to his back, and when he threw his cloak over the tunic, there was almost no way to notice them other than a barely-noticeable swell to his shoulders.

He threw open the door, putting on an irritated look as he swept his hand in a rather sarcastic gesture for Thor to enter. Thor did so happily, leaving Loki to slam the door shut behind him angrily just to make a statement.

"Happy?" He said icily, as if the disturbance were just that- merely a disturbance. Loki was often working on any number of private things, and he told Thor repeatedly that he hated to be disturbed. Perhaps Thor would just assume this were one of those cases and take the hint and leave.

No such luck.

Thor threw himself onto Loki's bed with a grin plastered on his face and made himself comfortable with his hands behind his head.

"Quite. What have you been up to today? You fairly ran off yesterday after mother let you go from Court, and no one has seen hide nor hair of you today."

"Not true. I was speaking with Heimdall."

Thor raised an eyebrow. "Your usual spot when you're plotting something. But he said you'd left as well, early this morning. It's well past dinner. And you're not actually answering me."

Damn. He hated when his brother called him on things like that- nobody else in Asgard was dumb enough to even try, but Thor... Loki folded his arms over his chest and concentrated very hard on keeping his wings still. ( He did not like that he had just thought that.)

"I was researching a spell, Thor. You know, studying? That thing you seem to be so allergic to?"

Thor laughed, a familiar rumble, and sat up.

"That's not nice. I study fighting just fine."

"That's not what I mean and you know that." Loki drawled.

Thor shook his head, sending messy strands of golden hair across his forehead. "You promised you would come see me spar with Sif this afternoon." He said, changing the subject.

Loki refused to look guilty. He HAD watched, of course, but Thor wouldn't know that. "I was busy. Surely you can fight her without needing my assistance?"

Thor sprang up, stalking over to Loki before the younger god had a chance to react. Thor ran one hand along his brother's cheek, smiling warmly.  
"Yes, but I like having you around. And I'd almost hoped we could spar ourselves after..."

Loki jerked away, turning his back on his brother. "Stop that."

He didn't have to see his brother's face to know there was a stubbornly annoyed look on it.

"Loki." Thor said, exasperated. (It never took much to irritate Thor, especially when it came to Loki.)

Loki turned around and made an equally annoyed expression. "Thor." He mimicked the same tone as his brother had used. "Just go away. So I got caught up in my studies. No need to act like a jilted lover." Loki said coldly, turning away and stalking across the room, hoping that would be enough to anger his brother into storming out.

Thor just reached out and caught his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. And that heavy hand at his shoulder, resting on the leading edge of one wing made him flinch instinctively.

Thor froze.

"Loki. What's wrong with your shoulder?" He said, taking Loki's reaction as one of pain. He grabbed his brother by the arms and turned him to face him, searching Loki's face for some trace of pain.

"Nothing, you idiot. Let me go." Loki tried to wrest free, but it was like fighting a force of nature. Thor had him until Thor wished to let him go.

"You're lying."

"It's what I DO." Loki hissed, growing tired of this game.

Thor ignored him, and instead forcibly unfastened the cloak and let it pool in a pile of hunter green on the floor. Loki squirmed again, knowing Thor's old tunic would hardly hide his problem for long.

Thor smiled, then, suddenly noting that yes, Loki was wearing one of his shirts. It hung off him loosely, baring the pale hollow of his collarbone quite enticingly. Thor would have been content to stop there and move on to other topics of conversation (like kissing) but he noticed that his shirt fit his brother's shoulders strangely well.

"Loki?"

Loki pressed his hands to Thor's chest, shoving at him. "Get off me! I've told you, I want to be left alo-"

He was silenced as Thor ran his hands up Loki's arms and down the back of his neck. Thor's look of worry morphed into one of confusion, then stunned bafflement.  
"Loki, what is this? Are you- what-I?!"

Thor couldn't finish whatever he'd been trying to say, tripping over his words and releasing Loki with a dumbstruck look.

Loki just huffed, and wrapped his arms around himself defensively. "It's...nothing. Just a side-effect of a spell I tried. I'm...working on fixing it."

Thor stared, completely amazed and stunned. "Loki, I am pretty sure having wings is something more than 'nothing.'"

"Oh, really? Well in that case- GO AWAY." Loki snapped. "I don't need you bothering me-"

Loki had again tried to distance himself from his brother, busying himself with gathering his cloak from the floor, but the feeling of Thor's hands tentatively brushing his back stopped him cold.

"Stop that." He breathed, but all the earlier venom in his tone was gone.

"Can I ...see?" Thor asked, sounding half-excited.

Loki heaved a sigh of feigned annoyance, and pulled away. "No. Don't be stupid. I have to fix this, not let you gawk at my miscalculation in my shapeshifitng."

Thor raised an eyebrow. "Miscalculation...you can't get them to go away? You mean, this was not your intention?"

Loki pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Of course not. Why would I do this on purpose?"

"I don't know." Thor shrugged. "I don't try to figure you out. It always gives me a headache."

Loki rolled his eyes. No longer caring what Thor said or did (he'd already found out what Loki was hiding, so why bother) he tugged off the tunic, throwing it on the bed and stalking back to the mirror. As much as he hated baring so much skin like that, the feeling of the fabric against his wings was maddeningly uncomfortable. He grabbed a spellbook on the way, and was flipping through it, trying to find any reference to something like this happening to someone else. He'd been through the book four times before, though, and all he could find reference to were the same warnings about shapeshifting he'd read previously. Forget your shape to assume another, blah blah blah. He'd TRIED that, but yet the wings remained.

He knew, inside, what the problem was- he didn't want to go back to being Loki, couldn't go back when he didn't know who Loki was in the first place. When he'd shifted into another appearance, it had been easy enough to return to himself- he knew what he looked like and how it felt, but changing to another creature entirely was something far different, far more involved, and now he was having trouble being himself again.

He snapped the book closed angrily. Turning back to Thor, he glowered at the God of Thunder, who was giving him some oafish look. "Don't just gape at me like an idiot."

Thor shook his head to clear it. He had just been fascinated. Loki was hardly one for being undressed so freely- he rarely even wore short sleeves- but here he was bare chested and furious, and Thor couldn't help but find it decidedly sexy. And the picture he made with those black-as-night wings curved lightly around him, like some incredibly pissed-off falcon waiting to strike-  
"I can't help it."

Loki just growled a curse at his brother, and was about to go for another book, when he felt Thor's hands at his waist. He stopped, turning just enough to glance at his brother, and waited. Surely there would be an explanation for interrupting him.

"I don't think it's that bad." Thor said finally, reaching one hand up to stroke the back of one of the black-feathered wings. Loki found himself shivering involuntarily at the touch, and he pulled back.

"Don't be ridi-" He was cut short by his own sharp inhalation as Thor ran his hands along the full length of his wings, letting his fingers sink into the soft feathers. Loki couldn't help be be stunned- while it was alien and extremely disconcerting, it also felt damnably good.

Thor continued touching him, running his hands up and down Loki's wings gently, experimentally, feeling his way up and down his brother's back. He arched back into the touch, almost instinctively. Loki found his breath coming faster, and couldn't for the life of him remember what he'd been doing before Thor had started...

Thor, for his part, was entranced by the stark black feathers against the pale white of his brother's back. He ran one hand down Loki's spine, feeling the ever-familiar curve of his back, his shoulders, down to the bony hips. He'd always thought the way his brother's hair looked at the nape of his neck, how it was so rich and dark against his pale flesh, and this was like that, only thousands of times more strangely beautiful.

"Loki..." Thor murmured into his brother's neck, laying a kiss upon his shoulder from behind. Loki's skin was cool, but there was always some current of energy to it, like magic just flowed through him. Thor worked his way up Loki's neck slowly, never ceasing the sort of gentle exploration of the wings his hands were conducting. "They're so soft."

"Don't-"  
Loki found himself horridly distracted, unable to focus while Thor's hands softly stroked the feathers at his back- did Thor know how maddeningly good that felt? It was so electrifying, sending heat and tingling electricity through him in all the wrong ways-

Loki made a quiet noise, letting the book fall from his hands onto the floor, and he wrenched away. Thor looked stunned, but not a moment later, Loki had whirled to face him, twining his arms around his brothers neck and kissing him soundly. Thor was startled- he hadn't been able to gauge Loki's reaction to his touch, had had no way of knowing how ridiculously turned on he was. Even Loki was surprised by that.

Thor moaned softly at his brother's sudden aggressive kiss, all teeth and tongue and a desperate craving for more. He leaned into it, giving as good as he got, and Loki redoubled his efforts, hissing softly in challenge and biting his brother's lower lip. Thor growled at the sudden sharp sting and jerked away, pulling Loki to him and nipping at the dark-haired god's neck fiercely. Loki gasped softly, and dragged his nails down Thor's back needily.

"Thor, don't you dare tease me." He hissed, already fighting to get his brother's shirt off. Thor just chuckled and grabbed his middle, dragging them over to Loki's bed and pinning Loki there under him as he straddled the trickster's hips. Loki made quite the picture there, too, panting and splayed on his back in just his pants, wings spread out under him, hair messy and tousled out of it's normal neat style. And those brilliant green eyes burning with all sorts of unspoken desires and-

Loki fisted his hands in Thor's hair and pulled him down, wrestling for a second before Loki ended up flipping them and he ended up on top. He finished removing Thor's shirt with a tiny little smirk, and ran his hands along the muscular chest beneath him. Thor looked a little surprised by the aggression, but Loki's feverish kisses drove the thought away and brought up much more interesting thoughts in it's place.

Normally, Thor was the more pushy of the two, Loki preferring to lead him on teasingly, but today Loki was running on a high of remembered exhilaration and frustrated desperation, scared he'd really screwed up this time and frantic to distract himself from his fears. Fears that whispered he'd never be able to go back because he was no one to begin with. Fears that fractured somewhere deep within him, that panicked him to no end in a terror he couldn't begin to explain. And Thor's hands on his wings, those wings so obscenely sensitive he could hardly bear it, Thor being there, his brother, his god, his lover- that had pushed him over the edge.

And Thor was hardly complaining. Loki arched over him, biting his way down Thor's chest, the black wings flared over and around them like some dark shield against the world. Thor could only see Loki, Loki pinning him down, Loki's hands gripping his forearms hard enough to bruise, Loki's madly green eyes. And he was fine with that. Loki's clever fingers made their way lower, slipping under the waist of Thor's pants, and when they found what they sought, Thor could only let out a stifled gasp. Loki smirked, and Thor frowned up at him, as ever annoyed by his brother's insistence on arrogance at the most inopportune moments.

Thor reached up and pulled Loki closer to him, propping himself on one elbow to meld his mouth to Loki's and thoroughly ravish it. His scruffy beard scraped Loki's jaw off and on, as he kissed up and down Loki's neck hungrily. Loki resisted the urge to moan, instead tracing his fingers along Thor's burgeoning erection. Thor wanted to play, well he was welcome to. One of them was in a much better position than the other, and he was not talking about Thor.

On the other hand, Thor did not seem to mind. In fact, judging by the way his kissing got sloppier and more and more rough, he was enjoying it quite thoroughly. Thor actually quite loved Loki's hands, even when they weren't doing amazingly mindblowing things to his cock. Loki had the most elegant fingers, long and slender, and his nails-

Thor buried his head in Loki's neck and bit him-hard- as Loki's aforementioned nails traced lines along his penis. Loki made a soft snarling sound and threw his head back. His own erection was hard and straining against his loose clothes, and Thor didn't miss the pause in Loki's ministrations to roughly graze it with his palm. Loki gasped, and drew his hands back. Thor almost protested, but Loki silenced him with a look and whispered a word. A graceful flick of his wrist and he was drawing a small vial from thin air, and Thor's impatient glare turned into a comprehending grin.

Loki pressed the vial into Thor's hand, and broke away a moment to fight with the tie on his pants. Thor shook his head, and interrupted him by simply snapping the delicate string with one forceful tug, and jerking the rest of Loki's clothes off. Every time. Loki was losing a LOT of pants this way. Still. Loki just smirked and shoved Thor back on the bed and crawled on top of him. Thor was just as quickly divested of his own trousers, though Loki didn't destroy HIS pants. Just pulled them off and tossed them to the side before continuing his torturous stroking.

Thor wasn't going to play nice this time, of course. He was happy to let Loki have his way, but it didn't change the fact that Thor was far the stronger of the two. He grabbed Loki's wrists and sat up, keeping the naked god planted firmly in his lap (and Loki ground into him so unfairly, Loki's erection rubbing Thor's in the most delightfully agonizing way). Thor chuckled between his ragged breaths, and while Loki did his best to drive him insane with that slow, heated friction, Thor fumbled with the vial, managing to pry it open after a second. Loki watched him carefully, as Thor spread the slick along his fingers, and slid his hand between Loki's legs. He followed the curve of his brother's ass until he found what he was looking for, spreading the remaining oil around the opening before sliding one finger inside. Loki arched his back, breathing out harshly and letting Thor keep going. 

Thor slid the finger out, then back in, giving Loki a chance to stretch around him before he added the second finger. Thor could only chuckle as his normally standoffish brother practically melted into him, those long fingers tightening in his hair, Loki moaning into his neck. The wings fluttered, trembling slightly; Thor was amused that they belied Loki's emotions so blatantly.

"THOR. Hurry up." Loki snarled, biting the words out icily. Thor just pulled back, and added a third finger, leaving Loki pushing back against him hungrily. When he was nearly begging for more, Thor pulled his fingers free, and rifled around for the oil again. Loki beat him to it, the small bottle dancing between his fingers for a moment before he was coating Thor's cock with it. Thor adjusted them both, letting Loki shift until he was positioned at the head of Thor's erection. Thor half debated moving them to a better position, but one look from Loki silenced that idea before it even had a chance to grow. Loki wanted to do it this way.

He braced his arms around Thor's shoulders, nodding just slightly, and Thor drove into him. Loki resisted at first, as always, but Thor eased into him and he relaxed, slowly adjusting to the almost painful size within. After a second, Loki began to move, pushing Thor onto his back and riding him slowly, languidly, despite their both being so close to the edge already. Loki wanted to savor this, to make it last. He fell into an easy rhythm, angling himself so that every thrust brought Thor's cock deep into him, brushing against that place that made him cry out in pleasure. Thor tightened his hand on Loki's hips, trying to hold back, but Loki caught his eyes and sighed.

Thor never had been good at holding back. Loki nodded, slightly, and Thor took control, thrusting into him harder and faster now. Loki let him have his way, clinging to his brother like a lifeline as the pace picked up, and Thor was pounding into him almost violently. The line between pain and pleasure blurred here, as it always did, and Loki could feel an intense pressure building. He panted, trying to call out Thor's name, but then Thor's hand was around Loki's cock, bringing him to climax, and any words were lost in a low muffled scream as Loki came, hard, all over his brother's hand and stomach, shaking with the lingering waves of ecstasy rolling over him. Thor kept thrusting deeply into him, and after a moment, he tensed, and slammed all the way into Loki as he came, releasing his own seed inside, hot thick spurts that Loki felt as if they burned him.

They clung to each other, hot and panting and weary, as the lingering effects of climax wore off. Loki was the first to pull away- like always. He didn't get far, just collapsed on the bed on his stomach, breathing heavily but silent otherwise. Thor heaved a great sigh and flopped over to join him, smoothing his clean hand through Loki's hair and absently licking his other hand free of Loki's seed with a positively devious look. Loki couldn't quite look away, mildly fascinated, but after a moment he made an annoyed sound- as close as he could manage to an insult at the second- and rolled his eyes. Thor just laughed, and rolled onto his side to throw his arm around his brother and draw him close.

"I don't know. I still think they're sexy." Thor mumbled, kissing the back of one of his wings, and Loki did his best to smack him, and failed. He never liked long lingering sentiments like this. Thor laughed. Loki just let himself catch his breath and struggled free, searching for his pants with an almost disinterested air, as if he could care less what happened now. Thor sighed. They were back to business as usual, then. He just lounged on Loki's bed, propped up on one arm, perfectly happy to be quite naked.

Loki found his pants, and stared at them for a moment, before giving Thor a dirty look and magicking the ties whole again. Again, Thor just laughed.  
"Don't look at me like that. You jumped me."

"I did no such thing. You were distracting me from my work."

"Yes, of course, Loki. I was distracting YOU." Thor sounded far too smug, and Loki decided he really only liked that tone when it was HIM using it.

"Yes, you were." Loki said haughtily. "In case you don't remember-" He flung one arm out for effect and one of the long wings stretched out as well, perfectly illustrating Loki's point. "See? Problem. Work to be done. I had to find some way to get you to shut the Hel up and leave me alone, now didn't I?"

Thor smiled his dopey smile that irritated Loki to no end. "And you didn't enjoy yourself at all."

Loki ignored that- instead he just called up another small spell, one he'd perfected a while back. A flash of emerald light for just a second and he was clean again. He slipped his pants back on and stalked back to his books, selecting one at random and cracking it open just to point out that yes, he was indeed quite done, now would Thor please just put his clothes on already and leave?

Thor was never good at picking up on things like that, and did nothing of the sort. He fully planned on staying and seeing how things turned out.

Loki had been afraid of that. With a resigned mutter, he flipped through the book- one on practical applications for battle strategy and entirely useless to him at the moment. After putting on a rather nice show of flipping through pages, talking to himself, and utterly ignoring his brother, he finally set the book down and glared at the mirror again.

Thor wasn't leaving. He still had no idea what he was going to do. He settled for just closing his eyes and trying, for what seemed like the millionth time that day, to revert his shape. Steady breathing, draw the spell around you completely, focus on what you were changing- so far so good. It was when he got to the point of focusing on going back to what he had been that he felt himself falter. He couldn't concentrate anymore- not that it had done any good before, but now... all he could think about was all the wrong things. Instead of his hands all he could feel were Thor's fingers entwined in his. Instead of his voice and his face, he could feel Thor's lips on his, the hot slow burn of his brother's kiss. Instead of his own back and body he felt Thor's hands tracing his spine...

He snapped his eyes open, their color flashing brilliant green with magic for just a moment as he stared at his reflection. He was doing it wrong, again-

Thor's quiet mumble of approval suddenly caught his attention. "Maybe you were in need of a distraction after all, Loki. You seem to have managed quite well this time."

Loki glanced over his shoulder at Thor, about to question what he meant by that, when he realized all he could see over his shoulder was Thor and part of his own back. No feathers, no wings, just HIM.

Just him again.

Loki was silent for a long time, carefully inspecting his reflection and turning to double check as if he didn't quite believe it. But no, the long wings were quite gone now. All that was left was Loki. All of Loki, back to his normal self.

The dark-haired god could only stare at his reflection as relief washed over him. He...was back. But how? All he had thought of was- Loki suddenly felt too tired to deal with any revelations right now. He just breathed in and out slowly for a long while, then grabbed his shirt and threw it on before turning on his heel and dropping back onto his bed next to Thor.

Thor seemed slightly confused, but shrugged. That was pretty much normal around Loki. His brother glared at him from under long dark lashes for a moment before speaking.

"What?" Loki snapped. 

"That's it? I fixed it with sex?"

Loki managed to give him an even more fed-up look than the moment before. "No. I just- needed to clear my head. And with you around, there's always an incredible vacuum of intelligence. I just needed an idiot to make me realize I am indeed the best sorcerer in the nine realms, and that I could fix anything I got myself into." He explained as if talking to a child. He stretched out on his back and decided that his bed seemed a perfectly nice place to be at the moment- he was finding himself utterly exhausted.

"Now shut up. I'm tired."

Thor just grinned and snuggled up next to Loki, throwing an arm around his brother. "Alright then. I'll just stick around in case you need to solve any more problems, then."

Loki growled something incredibly rude and turned his back on Thor, but never actually told him to leave, which was, Thor figured, as much of an invitation to stay as he was ever going to get.  
___

 

Loki never mentioned what had happened to anyone else, and Thor never had any reason to. Loki changed his shape thousands of times in the years following, and he never once made a mistake again, so they eventually sort of forgot all about it. But Thor did catch Loki in a long cape lined with black feathers once, and they shared a long look that ended with both of them quite spent in Thor's bedroom.

But Loki never got stuck again, never once in the many times he changed his form into all manner of things. Because Loki knew what he'd been thinking of the one time the spell worked. Because Loki had been thinking of Thor.

It galled him to admit it, but Thor was the reason he'd been willing to return to his true self, when there hadn;t seemed any real reason to. Even the freedom of the hawk's shape, or the power of the wolf's, or the sheer deadliness of the serpents couldn't compare to Loki's form, because it was Loki who Thor came to, Loki who was Thor's brother, his confidant, his best friend and ally. It was Loki who was Thor's brother. And any time Loki began to fear losing himself he could remember Thor's hands in his own, Thor's kiss... and he found himself able to return even after days of being shapeshifted.

All to be drawn back to Thor. Thor was his light and his heart and his beacon.

And in the years that passed, Thor was his rival, his opponent, his enemy.

But never did one or the other hold precedence. Loki loved Thor as much as he hated him, envied him as much as he disdained him, all at the same time.

And when, hundreds of years after his first foray into the skies, Loki fell under Thor's hammer on the Bifrost... When Thor shattered the rainbow bridge after his banishment to save the MONSTERS Loki was trying to destroy. When he sacrificed everything to protect his people...Loki realized Thor was also his king. That...seemed right. Loki couldn't BE a king, no matter how hard he tried. Loki was a thing of lies and shadows and misdirections- Thor was light and strength and Loki's only sense of self. Loki was madness and chaos and Thor was the only thing he had to bring himself together again. And even now, with everything he'd done to Thor, Thor was here, trying so hard, forgiving him.

And Loki hated that.

So he let go.

And as his dark wings caught the thin paths that would carry him between the realms at will, on the paths Heimdall had never wanted him to know about, he was not afraid of losing his shape. He wasn't afraid fo losing himself to the freedom of this form, because even as he hated him, even as he replayed the anguish on Thor's face, the pain as his brother realized too late he wasn't going to hold on... even as he loathed and hated and envied Thor, he would always go back to being Loki because of it. Because Thor was his anchor to his true self- a chain he could never break.

Because no matter how he would have liked to run forever and lose himself to the wind, Thor was his way back to himself, Thor's memory Loki's path back to being Loki. And though Loki knew the rules of magic- to become something else you must fully forget yourself- Loki couldn't bear to forget Thor.


End file.
